Jesus said, So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet.  For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.  John 13:14-15

  What gets you down on your knees these days?  Do you wash the kitchen floor, vacuum under the sofa, repair the drain under a sink?  Maybe you plant seeds in the garden, or pull up weeds.  Maybe you attend to a small child when he or she is sick, or clean up after a beloved cat or dog? I hope that sometimes you get down on your knees in prayer – as long as your knees still work!

There are probably many things that cause us to get down on our knees, for one reason or another, but I bet that foot-washing is not one of them.

And yet – there it is, right at the center of tonight’s Gospel.  Jesus had gathered with the disciples, and he had a pretty good sense of what was coming next.  In fact, the way John relates the story, Jesus knows that his hour had come, time was up, and he wanted to leave his followers with a very clear example and symbol of who he was and who they should be.

So during the dinner party Jesus gets up, takes off his outer clothing, and wraps himself in a towel, just like any household servant of first-century Palestine would do. And then he proceeds to take up a basin and a pitcher of water and wash the disciples’ feet.

You probably know what it’s like in the summer time if you wear sandals – your feet feel cool and comfortable, but boy, do they get dirty! Well, it was the same thing in Jesus’ day, and the accepted standard of hospitality was that when a visitor arrived for a meal, the guest’s feet would be washed of the street dust and dirt.  And if there was household help, washing feet was a servant’s job.

It was a shocking thing to see the leader, the revered rabbi, washing feet like a common servant.  I am sure the disciples were whispering amongst themselves: “This is too weird; what does he think he’s doing?!”  It was finally Peter who, as usual, burst out with what everyone else was thinking:   “Master, you wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You don’t understand now what I’m doing, but it will be clear enough to you later.” Peter persisted, “You’re not going to wash my feet—ever!” Jesus said, “If I don’t wash you, you can’t be part of what I’m doing.” “Master!” said Peter. “Not only my feet, then. Wash my hands! Wash my head!”

Peter couldn’t stand the idea of his leader and friend, the one whom he had identified as Messiah, could act like a common servant. And then Jesus explained the inner meaning of his action: “If you’ve had a bath in the morning, you only need your feet washed now and you’re clean from head to toe. My concern, you understand, is holiness, not hygiene.”  And he went on to make it clear to them that if  they claimed Jesus as “teacher” and “master” then they had to follow his example, to live life according to Jesus’ pattern.

Jesus was giving them a new vocation, or at least finally making it clear and explicit, in these last hours before his arrest and trial and death. The vocation of the disciples was to live a life of service to others, based on their love and loyalty for Jesus, strengthened by their love for one another. 

We had flashes of Jesus’ humility on Palm Sunday when he rode a donkey into Jerusalem – a common, humble animal, and when we heard the reading from Paul’s letter to the Philippians when he quoted the words of a hymn: “…though he was in the form of God, [Christ] did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross.”

The new vocation that Jesus gave to the disciples and to us is that we are to be servants – not subservient – but servants to those for whom Christ died, all those whom he loves, especially to those who are least able to help themselves: the poor, the sick, the lonely, the powerless, the outcast, the lesser-than  And we are to do this with love, with compassion, because really (if we look into our heart-of-hearts) we know that we have all been in that place of need whether physically, emotionally or spiritually.  Not one of us is exempt from it. And so Jesus calls us to be servants on his behalf, in the world. 

In the Church, it is the deacon who symbolizes this, and tonight I am remembering our former Deacon Bill Bailey who embodied this so well, right up to a few months before his death earlier this month.  And I know that Bill would say that he was merely showing the way for others, that he would not have succeeded in his ministry if others hadn’t learned from him a little more deeply what it means to serve, and to be Church, in and for and on behalf of the world.  The ceremony of foot-washing which symbolizes servant-hood was always Bill’s favorite part of Maundy Thursday liturgy, and I know he was a little disappointed that we did not do that here at All Saints’.

Our vocation to be servants get lived out on at least two different levels – the level of our individual actions in our work and families, and the level of what we do together as a parish.  That’s what has driven our ministry of community hospitality; it’s why we open our buildings to so many groups in our neighborhood; it’s why we host so many AA meetings each week; it’s why we collect food for the pantry in Dover; it’s why we endeavor to welcome anyone and everyone who is looking for a spiritual home, a community of connection to God.  It’s all part of our vocation as servants for Christ’s sake. 

But even as we are engaged in all this work and ministry and hospitality, Jesus bids us to gather at his Table – to be fed, strengthened, renewed, nourished – not just for our well-being or spiritual satisfaction, but so that we can be the Body of Christ in the world, fed by the Body and Blood of the Lord.  We gather for worship, we lift up the cares and concerns of our hearts and our neighbors, we are fed by Christ and then sent out to be who and what we are, only to return and begin the process all over again.

Towel and table, invitation and dismissal, bread and work, prayer in sacrament and action – it’s all part of this night, and part of each and every day that we live as Jesus’ followers, servants and friends.  Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Maundy Thursday
March 28, 2013

Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. John 12:3

  How close does someone have to be to you before you will “let your hair down,” before you will let your weaknesses and vulnerabilities show, before you can reveal your less-than-presentable parts?

This can be very difficult for us to do. So often we are told to lead with our strengths, to put a good face on things. And certainly a large sector of our economy is based on convincing us as consumers to buy products and services that will improve or camouflage our imperfections and short-comings, whether those goods be cosmetics or resumé-writing services.

So when we decide to confide in another person, to “let our hair down” with them, we generally want to be pretty sure that we can trust him or her with what we say, and who we are, and what we reveal about ourselves.

It can feel very risky to share who we truly are with another person. We see that in this morning’s Gospel – Mary anointing Jesus.

But first we need to get a couple of things clear. A version of this event appears in all four Gospels: Matthew’s and Mark’s version are pretty similar to each other; Luke situates the story much earlier in Jesus’ ministry and identifies the woman doing the anointing as a prostitute; Mark and Matthew don’t identify her at all.

John, however, tells the story very differently. Jesus is at the home of his friends Martha, Mary and Lazarus in Bethany, outside of Jerusalem.  Some days before this Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead – he was four days in the tomb – and restored him to sisters.

This family of siblings were probably Jesus’ closest friends, in addition to the Twelve. Mary was the one who wanted to sit and listen to Jesus’ teachings when he came to dinner; Martha was concerned to treat her guest right by making sure the meal was getting served on time – and yet even before Lazarus had been resuscitated, she professed her faith in Jesus as the Messiah.

At some point during this dinner party, as John tells it, Mary took very expensive perfume – it would have cost a year’s wages – and poured it over Jesus’ feet. And then she took off her head covering, unbound her long hair, and began to dry his feet.

What an intimate moment this is: Mary literally letting her hair down with Jesus, which in those days was not done outside of the family, and using her hair in place of the servant’s towel – the servant who would have already washed the feet of the dinner guests.

Judas protests at the waste and the expense; the Gospel writer wants us to see Judas as a greedy embezzler. But Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.’

Mary was anointing Jesus for burial, anticipating his death.  Somehow she heard and understood in what Jesus had been saying and doing that it would come to this – that he would die, and that this was probably the last time she would be able to share a moment like this with him; the very next day would see Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey to the acclamation of the crowds, and all that would come after it.

By contrast Peter – just five days later – refuses to let Jesus wash his feet, when Jesus takes up the servant’s towel and basin at the Last Supper. Jesus tells Peter: “If I do not wash you, you have no part in me.” Now this being the Gospel of John, that statement has meaning on several different levels, but one of those meanings is that unless Peter can accept the intimacy and humility of Jesus taking on a servant’s role for those who follow him, he won’t really have gotten who and what Jesus is all about.

But Mary had gotten it – she understood that her friend Jesus was also her Lord, the one who was going to suffer and die for her – and the truest and best response was to serve him, to act as servant in the way that she could do. As a disciple, she became a servant, and in her service she acted prophetically – by anticipating Jesus’ death and by recognizing his kingship; anointing with oil carried both those connotations in the ancient world, and healing, as well. The closer Mary drew to Jesus, the more willing she was to be vulnerable, the more truth she saw and understood, and the more real her service was. The truth that Mary saw was difficult and painful; we can’t kid ourselves about that. But it shaped her response to Jesus, even in the face of Judas’ criticism; it allowed her to be a truer disciple.

As we have been walking through Lent our purpose has been to draw closer to Jesus, to put aside the habits and attitudes and predilections that keep us from intimacy with God. And if you are like me, you start with very good intentions – and even a good plan – only to have it pushed aside by events, unforeseen circumstances, inertia, or just plain tiredness; and we let ourselves down.

But when this happens, it’s an opportunity to come closer to God – to be honest, to acknowledge to ourselves and to God who we really are, and what is the nature of our short-comings and failures (particularly when we know that it is a pattern or a character trait with us). The gift of recognizing and owning our sin is not that it can be extracted from us, like having a bad tooth pulled; but rather that our whole self will be available to God, and that God can then use even the things that cause us so much trouble – usually in ways we could never have anticipated.

But that won’t happen unless we can let our hair down with the Lord, unless we are willing to be vulnerable with Jesus and sometimes with others. Staying and facing the truth about ourselves - rather than running away from what we don’t want to see – makes us much better disciples, much better servants of the Lord.

In these last days of Lent learn from Mary: sit at Jesus’ feet; let your hair down; be willing to give God your all; and know intimacy with Christ.

Let us pray.

O Lord, who has taught us that to gain the whole world and to lose our souls is great folly, grant us the grace so to lose ourselves so that we may truly find ourselves anew in the life of grace, and so to forget ourselves that we may be remembered in your kingdom.  Amen.                                                                                           ~ Reinhold Niebuhr

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Fifth Sunday of Lent
March 17, 2013